A/N: Still feeling wretched, but I managed to write something. I hope it turned out okay. PS: Please do leave feedback … I can't tell you how much it means to me.

Brian was sitting on the floor in the kitchen. He'd re-entered the loft just as Justin had started revealing out loud his greatest fear (one of his core beliefs, but Brian didn't know that or even what a 'core belief' was). He felt guilty for accidentally spying on Justin's self-therapy session, but he didn't want to interrupt and retreating was not an option. It was a miracle Justin hadn't seen or heard him walk in. He didn't want to risk trying to leave without detection. So he had secreted himself in the kitchen behind the island.

Everything that had happened in the last week had cast a pall over Justin and the loft and even Brian. The assault hearing, Daphne's visit, the desperation both Brian and Justin felt to get the sex tapes back, and the desperation Justin clearly felt to move forward with his recovery.

Brian was … mentally and emotionally exhausted. Everything Justin was going through was forcing Brian to remember his own shitty childhood and adolescence. Homophobia rooted in gender norms. Check. Subsequent physical and emotional abuse. Check. The fear that he was born 'wrong' and that the abuse might have been warranted. Check. The fear that he was too fucked up to ever be able to sustain a relationship (as a father, as a partner). Check. The nearly overwhelming terror and anxiety he experienced when it came to showing his 'true' self. Check. Just one person in his life who might be able to love him anyway. Check.

Brian was determined to make sure Justin had what he needed, to make sure Justin had what he wanted. But doing so was draining. He felt like the biggest dick (and not in the positive life-affirming way) even thinking that, but it was true. He couldn't even imagine how much worse the situation was for Justin. Brian was able to do something Justin wasn't. He could lie to himself. He could pretend with others. He could move among people with a fair amount of comfort (even if he still felt largely alone). He could (formerly) drown himself in drugs, booze, and tricking (well, or gay romance stories). Consequently, he was a little less trapped in the reality of abuse. It was still inside him, but he could push it down, pretend it wasn't there, and numb it away. Most of the time. Justin's struggle to 'function' and his natural openness and honesty were making such a coping method impossible for him. He did escape into the worlds he imagined, but that seemed to have had more efficacy when he didn't know exactly what he was missing. When he didn't know his wishes could become a reality … if he could only overcome the social anxiety. That … being close enough to see the life you desperately wanted … to reach out your hand and ALMOST touch it … THAT was infinitely more painful than believing what you wanted didn't exist.

Brian had to do something. He just wasn't sure what. He had a few kernels of ideas …

1) bringing the 'real world' to Justin through fairly elaborate pretending (maybe even eliciting the help of some members of his surrogate family) – something akin to what the Huxtables had done when Theo … he couldn't remember what exactly had prompted it, but his parents had wanted him to see how hard surviving in the real world was … Claire, he recalled, had pretended to be a waitress/cook in the Kitchen 'Restaurant.' Role playing scenarios that would normally make Justin's anxiety sky rocket (in the safety of the loft) might make actual forays outside and subsequent interactions easier.

2) starting to invite more people to the loft to help him practice actual face-to-face interaction but in the safety of the loft

3) taking Justin up to the roof to help him overcome to 'openness' problem with outside. Justin felt exposed while outside … there was so much unclosed space – people who might want to do him harm could emerge from anywhere. He also felt watched. Judged. Might be a good prelude to excursions outside of the loft.

4) helping Justin create a persona (some version of himself that was capable of the things he was not – not currently). This had actually worked for Brian. He had forged Brian-Fucking-Kinney for that sole purpose. Brian had never shared this with anyone, not yet anyway, but … he'd been crippled by insecurity for most of his life. Typical problem facing formerly abused children. Brian-Fucking-Kinney was a very effective persona Brian had adopted so that he could function (and at a very high level). Brian might despise himself to the point that he struggled to hold his head up, but Brian-Fucking-Kinney loved himself to an unhealthy degree, and everyone else did, too, even the people who also kind of hated him.

Brian waited until Justin went to the bathroom (probably to splash water on his face – he'd been crying). Then he made a big show of opening and then slamming the loft door.

Justin re-emerged a minute later, wearing a big smile. But of course, that smile was belied by the sadness in his eyes. Brian pretended not to notice.

"Hey!" Justin was using his too-chipper voice. Brian thought, "He must really want me to think he's okay."

"Hey." Brian's greeting was softer, but held fake cheerfulness, too. His was, of course, much more successful. He excelled at pretence.

"So what did Ted want? It was Ted, right?"

"Yeah. Let's talk about that later. I want to do something else right now."

"Oh?"

Brian took Justin's hand in his, walked over to the couch with Justin in tow, sat, and pulled Justin onto his lap. Justin sat sideways and put an arm around Brian's neck. He looked curious, but comfortable.

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth. He had no idea how to start. He decided to barrel in and see what momentum he could pick up. "So as I was driving back here, I was wondering …"

Justin's eyes widened. "What?"

"Imagine we'd met sooner. Maybe your senior year. Suppose you'd come down to Liberty Avenue one night, just to see."

Justin flushed and shifted nervously. "You mean before the prom."

Not a question. A bitter statement. Brian sighed inwardly.

Justin looked down. "You were wondering how I was before …?"

Brian lifted Justin's chin with a finger until their eyes met. "Yes. But not for the reason you think. I like YOU. Now you. I just wondered how things would have been if you'd met me before Ethan. I mean, if you can think of a reason I'd be hanging at the hospital … we could use that as a starting point …"

Brian (inwardly) breathed a sigh of relief when Justin relaxed his body and even smiled (Brian thought sweetly).

"Oh. Huh. I guess you're right. You probably haven't been to the hospital since Gus was born, huh?"

"Once … to see sort of a friend. But you would have been on a different floor." He looked at Justin expectantly and prodded, "So … I'm on Liberty Avenue. Where should I be? A club? Outside walking to the Jeep? The diner?"

Justin's eyes widened. "Would they have let me into any of the clubs?"

Brian huffed a laugh. "Uh, yeah. You're hot."

Justin blushed.

"And young. Everyone loves a twink."

"Okay … so … I go to Babylon? That's the club you went to that first night we IMed, right?"

Brian nodded. "What are you wearing?"

Justin made a face. "Honestly … I don't know. Jeans and a T-shirt? I didn't have anything like your clothes."

Brian smirked. "Please tell me it wouldn't have been an NSYNC T-Shirt."

Justin laughed, Brian thought, in a tellingly nervous way. "Of course NOT! Daphne may have been a fan, but …" He cleared his throat and looked away.

Brian kept moving his head so that he was always looking into Justin's eyes (despite Justin's attempts to avoid them). Finally, a very pink-faced, very flustered Justin exclaimed, "What? Justin Timberlake is HOT!" Brian just smirked and shook his head.

Justin sighed. "Let's say a plain black one."

"Are your jeans tight?"

Justin shook his head. "No. My mom bought my jeans back then. And according to Daphne, girls don't like boys whose pants are tighter than theirs. Remember I still thought I was straight." After a pregnant pause, he asked softly, nervously, "Would you even have noticed me?"

"Yes."

Justin laughed. "Why because I would have looked so out of place?"

"I told you, your smile lights up the room. But to be brutally honest, the fact that you were young and NEW would have been enough to pique my interest. Then when I got a decent look at your ass, I would have been sold. But you wouldn't know anything about gay … uh … 'mating rituals' for lack of a better term. So suppose you saw me first, what would you have done?"

Justin's eyes widened. He shook his head. "I don't know."

Brian laughed. "Well, I guess it's a good thing you have such a great imagination."

"Um … okay. I guess I would have flashed you my brightest smile and strode over to you …"

Brian quirked an eye brow. "Strode?"

"What? Do you have a better word for 'walking purposely and quickly?'"

Brian rolled his eyes. "No."

"Alright then. And I would have said … ummm …" He smiled shyly. "'Did you hurt yourself when you fell from heaven?'"

Brian put a hand over his face to hide his smile. But his eyes were dancing.

"No good? How about … 'You know what would look good on you? Me.'" He widened his eyes, grinned, and nodded after (as if to say … 'You know you would have loved it!')

Brian cleared his throat.

"How about … 'I lost my phone number. Can I have yours?' Pretty clever, right?"

Brian looked away.

Justin giggled. "Oooo, oooo, I know … 'I thought happiness started with an H. Why does mine start with U?'" He waggled his eye brows for good measure.

Brian shot him a blank stare.

Justin smiled. "What about this one … 'Do you have a map? I'm getting lost in your eyes.'" He even leaned on his hands and batted his eyelashes.

Brian burst out laughing then. "We're not shooting a BuzzFeed YouTube video …"

Justin shrugged. "What do you want? I had only ever dated Daphne. And I never had to 'pick her up.' And there were no gay teen dramas for me to model myself after. Some of the lines I came up with would have worked on a girl. At some point, she would have laughed, told me I was stupid, but then said I was sweet or funny and given me her number. What would be better? 'Nice shirt?'"

Brian nodded. "Yes, that would have been much better."

"What?"

"A lot of gay men are fashion conscious and proud of it."

Justin shook his head. "That's just sad. And you say I have no game …"

Brian pinched Justin's nipple. "So you weren't savvy then … what would you say now?"

Justin's face grew suddenly serious. He looked into Brian's eyes and replied somewhat breathlessly, "Fuck, you're beautiful."

The intensity of the look in Justin's eyes and the huskiness of his voice got Brian's cock stirring.

Justin laughed. "But you probably would have laughed and told me to fuck off, right?" His tone was filled with amusement, but his eyes held vulnerability.

Brian tried to imagine how he would have reacted … in Babylon … the gang and half of gay Pittsburgh nearby and probably watching. "I might have laughed and said something like … 'That's a first.' But I would have been intrigued. That's something you do, and so well …."

Justin seemed to be having some trouble breathing. That made Brian smile. Justin replied softly, "What?"

"You always know exactly how you feel, what you want … and you see things other people can't see, other people wouldn't notice. You sure as hell put Lindsay in her place when she called. You're unassuming and kind … empathetic … even quiet. Then out of nowhere, you tell the truth as you see it … no games or pretence. I'm sure Lindsay didn't appreciate it, but I do. It's part of what makes you you."

Justin exhaled a soft "Huh" and flushed.